Our Pokemon Journey
by Forsakn
Summary: Fors, Johnson and Sam Keats are three fledgling trainers aspiring to be Grandmasters. This is their journey through the region of Kanto Generation 1 .
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Hello. This is my first serious attempt to start writing again. If you have read my previous works of pwn, I am sorry that this fails in comparison. Enjoy it anyway! It's for fun and for practice. And really, who the hell gets stories written about them/for them!? Be honoured :D

"Clefairy may be from the moon but it's just a doll. Stop bluffing yourself!"

"Oh yeah? That's what you think! I think Clefairy are real!" Fors stuck out her tongue at Sam.

Sam Keats is the brother of Grandmaster Santa, who is adventuring in the faraway Hoenn region. Fors and Sam are playing the SNES in Fors' room when her mum calls from downstairs.

"Fors! Johnson is here!"

Fors is an ordinary girl who likes food and pretty things. She doesn't look like much.

Barely two seconds after her mother announced Johnson's arrival, the boy was up in Fors' room. "Sup guys!" Johnson greeted them, spinning his pokemon league cap so that it sat backwards on his head.

Johnson is a closet rapper and a fan of hoodies. His father has not been home in several years, but eh. If mum said he's holidaying in the Seafoam Isles then he is holidaying in the Seafoam Isles.

"Yo, Johnson," Sam replied. Fors nodded her greeting, her eyes and the tip of her tongue barely visible in a face narrowed in concentration. The tv screen flashed and flickered with two humans kicking and punching each other.

"Are you playing Street Fighter again man? That's so barbaric," Johnson commented, flopping down on the empty beanbag next to Fors. He poked her in the side and laughed as her grip on the SNES controller slipped.

"Stop that!" she said huffily, not taking her eyes off the screen; Johnson was spared her famous glare. Pallet Town kids joked it could paralyse you, just like the pokemon move.

"Are we going to sit here all day?" Johnson then whined. Fors remained fixated on the screen. Sam, on the other hand, looked at his friend and found his outfit very strange indeed. Instead of his usual thin hoodie and jeans, Johnson had on an extra large hoodie and carried a backpack.

"Are we going somewhere?" Sam asked curiously. He was not prepared for anything, having come to Fors' house with only a hundred yen in his pocket. It was barely enough for drinks at the mart, but Fors always had tons of cash. It had something to do with being the only child and having a pokemon researcher for a dad.

In response to Sam Keats' question, Johnson looked incredulous.

"Seriously man," the latter said, after several minutes of shocked silence wherein Sam tried making funny faces in hopes Johnson would laugh and lose that incredulous face. Turning to Fors at last, Johnson reached across her and turned the SNES off.

"Hey!" she protested, slapping ineffectively at his arm. "I almost had him beat," Fors sulked.

"I don't care, we're going to be late!" Johnson stood up and looked around the room. Fors had a backpack on her bed stuffed full of her belongings.

"Late for what?" Sam asked.

"Keats, you're the younger brother of Grandmaster Santa and you don't know? It's the 15th of September! It's the day newly registered trainers get their first pokemon!"

With the most obvious answer possible given to him, it now dawned on Sam that Fors was dressed rather oddly. Instead of her usual shorts and teeshirt, she wore a pinafore over red and blue striped tights. She also had on a Psyduck beanie.

"Guys... did I register for it together with you?"

"YES YOU DID!" came the chorus that almost bowled Sam Keats over onto Fors' bed.

"I thought you knew!" Fors cried accusingly. "We're going to be late now!"

"I'm going to go first, man. It's only next door!"

"Actually, I can go... I can stop by home on our way to Viridian. How's that?"

"OK!" came another chorus. Fors snatched her bag up and ran to the light switch by the stairs. "Come on, guys!" she said, SNES entirely forgotten.

"Let's go get our pokemon!"


	2. Chapter 2

It was crowded at Oak's lab next door.

"Wasn't so bad when I passed by," Johnson observed, as the trio took a place by the picket fence outside the lab's doors. They were wide open today, and the chaos inside the lab was spilling out.

"Doesn't this remind you of the drama series, _Times at Temasek_?" Fors asked, squatting down and leaning against the fence.

"Not really..." Sam said. "Only girls watch dramas."

"Actually," said a boy before them in the line. "Boys watch dramas too." He turned around and smiled at them. "It's just like watching plays. Not only girls watch plays, you know. And isn't a play like a movie, too? Do only girls watch movies?"

"You've got a point, man," Johnson acknowledged. "What's your name?" he asked the stranger, who was smiling reassuringly at Fors. Sam shrugged in response. "What's your name?" he echoed.

"Juan Veron. Call me Juan," Juan said. "First day for you guys?"

Juan Veron is the eldest of three boys and lives in a corner of Pallet Town. He is tall, pretty handsome, and could possibly be a contender for the title of Pokemon Grandmaster. You can tell from his face.

"What do you mean first day?" Fors asked curiously. She looked down at Juan's belt. There was a single pokeball on it, but even one made a stark contrast to the empty waistlines opposite it. "And what's in your pokeball?"

"I actually got my license a year earlier," Juan explained, shuffling forward as the line moved. "But there were a lot of people that year, so Professor Oak suggested starting proper this year. He also said trainers would get the Pokedex3. Trainers last year only got the first generation Pokedex. And there's a Venonat in my pokeball. We've been training a lot," he finished off, patting the sphere on his belt.

"Wow, so do you call yourself a trainer?" Johnson asked. "Maybe you can battle Sam. Sam's the younger brother of Grandmaster Santa!"

"Hey! I'm not looking for a battle," Sam protested.

"Maybe after he gets his first pokemon," Fors said. She grinned. "Sam, you've got so much pro-ness in your genes! One battle won't hurt." But Sam Keats looked rather upset at that suggestion, so they dropped it.

A tall boy, taller than Juan, came out with a Scyther. "WOW!" The four of them exclaimed. "That's such a rare pokemon!" Juan said indignantly. "Are you related to the professor?"

"I just got lucky," the boy grinned. "I'm Spence, by the way. I'm from Fuschia and I temp in the Safari Zone. Maybe that's why the pokemon chose me."

Spence is also tall, taller than Juan, and is rugged and tanned. He really does look like he could take on the Elite 4. Spence likes basketball and ramen.

"Chose you?" Sam asked. Santa had never mentioned anything about being _chosen_ by pokemon. He had always come home laden with new catches. Most of them looked rather pissed, but Santa's pokedex was pretty full. "How can a pokemon choose you?"

"You'll see," Spence said mysteriously. He gently patted Scyther. The pokemon was a juvenile and only came up to Spence's waist, but it already had vicious blades for hands. "Come on, Euly!" he coaxed. The insect pokemon trotted after him as he made for the long grass just outside town. "You'll need your trainer IDs when you're inside!" were his parting words.

"He looks like he'll get to Indigo Plateau in no time, with that Scyther," Fors commented glibly.

"Maybe not. Scyther's not that versatile a pokemon, you know. Besides, you don't defeat the Elite Four with just _one_ pokemon." Johnson said. Sam was just in awe. What would _he_ get?

As the line moved forward, the four of them were approached by a young man wearing dark glasses. Two pokeballs sat on his waist, their exteriors spraypainted a matte black. The man wore a black suit himself, and painful looking dress shoes that tapered to a point.

"Greetings!" he said, the kind of tone evangelising christians normally adopt. "Have you ever heard of the Mafiya?" When four heads shook, the man changed tack. "What about Team Rocket?" There was silence as the quartet of new trainers tried to recall where they had heard of Team Rocket.

"I think they were in the news," Juan said. "Wasn't there a bust up a few years back where they were caught for pokemon smuggling?"

"You're right!" the young man said, smiling winningly. His teeth seemed to take up all of his face, and his dark glasses made them seem whiter than ever. "Team Rocket is looking for more talented trainers to join them! Trainers who aspire to be grandmasters; trainers who aim to fill their pokedexes before the end of their journey; trainers like you!"

"Uh, no thanks," Fors said, waving her hand dismissively. She turned away. Anything remotely organised and cultish didn't sit well with her. Johnson shrugged. "Not me," he said.

"I don't want to smuggle pokemon," Sam said, and Juan shrugged as well.

"Are you sure?" the young man asked. "C'mon, really? You don't want to join Team Rocket? Look at the clothes I'm wearing!"

But at that moment another trainer joined the queue behind them, and the Team Rocket evangelist rushed to repeat his mantra.

Eventually, it was their turn. It was still chaos inside, but the rush had subsided somewhat. Chilled air was wafting out from the open lab doors. Juan went first, pushing through the temporary turnstile. "See you guys later!" he called, before he disappeared from sight.

"What do you think you'll get?" Sam asked. Eyes cast skyward, Fors tapped her lips as she thought.

"I'm thinking of a Charmander. I hope we're not too late for it," Johnson said, just as Fors shrieked and pointed at the sky. "Look at that!" she gasped, eyes wide.

A humanoid pokemon was winding round and around the fluffy clouds, shaping them into dark, angry, cumulonimbus with each whirl. It was too far away to be seen correctly, and as fast as the boys turned their faces to look at it, it disappeared.

But there was no doubt that what they had seen was a pokemon. The question was, what was it?


	3. Chapter 3

It wasn't long before they forgot about the mysterious pokemon, though, because Juan came out of the lab accompanied by a sleek...

"What the fuck?" Johnson exclaimed, starting back.

"What the hell is that?" Fors asked incredulously.

"It's a Jynx!" Sam said, correctly identifying the strange, awkward looking pokemon. Santa had brought one back before. The pokemon looked curiously at Sam, and winked suddenly, dipping into a bow after that. It then looked to Juan for approval. Unfortunately Juan wasn't the most pleased with his pokemon, and only managed a grimace.

"I... don't know why I got it," he said uncomfortably. "I thought I'd get to pick, but I was directed to a line where you were assigned your pokemon. They said it would be in tune with me but..." he shrugged. "I can't return it, anyway."

"I don't think any of us want to trade, either," Johnson said flatly, speaking for the trio; the other two immediately nodded.

"Sorry Juan," Fors said, reaching out to pat his shoulder. "Good luck with it!"

"Try to be nice," Sam advised, remembering what his dad had said when Santa first started adventuring. "Pokemon are nice to you when you're nice to them."

"What about the stupid cartoon they showed a few years back, with Ash and his Pikachu?" Fors asked.

"He was nice to it, and it liked him eventually," Johnson said. "Oh," Fors said, turning pink.

"I'll... try," Juan told Sam. "I guess I'll get going, guys. I'm glad I'll have Veen for company too, at least." He turned and started walking.

Fors stared at the ground and twiddled her thumbs. The aides on the inside of the lab stuck their heads out and called for the three of them to enter. She looked at them, and back at Juan, who was making his way down the main road to the long grass at the end.

"Be right back!" she cried, dashing off. Later that night, Johnson and Sam would discover Fors had given Juan her number, but now they were just excited to finally be getting their pokemon.

"You'll need your ID," the aides informed them as they were ushered down the hall and into a room where a supernerd sat.

"Hi," the supernerd said distractedly, pushing his glasses up his nose. Light reflected off them so that the lenses were turned to mirrors.

"Hi," the trio replied, uncertainly, simultaneously, placing their IDs on the table before him.

"What's this for?" Fors asked eventually, as they watched the supernerd enter their data into a battered little laptop.

"Pokedex and storage system registration," the supernerd began, not looking away from the screen. His fingers flew furiously over the keyboard. "You're not going to be able to carry five hundred pokeballs around on your journeys. Instead, after you catch a few pokemon, you can head over to a poke centre and have them deposited. Sort of like a bank, but only for pokemon." He grinned at that vague hint of a joke, though none of the three kids before him smiled. Johnson drew three fingers down the side of his head and Sam mimed a shiver. Fors did not react.

Eventually the supernerd handed their ID cards back and looked at them as he did so. "I'm Evans, like Ekans but with a V. I'm tech support for the storage system so you can contact me anytime via any computer hooked up to the network." Again the light reflected off his glasses, so that it was impossible to see his eyes.

Evans was born of a pokemaniac and a pokefan meeting at a PokeCon. He likes computers and will invariably play a big part in the journey to come, simply because without his help, the trio are not going to survive the storage system. His other nickname is Bunnywunny.

"Bye," Fors said, and they were ON THEIR WAY TO GET THEIR FIRST POKEMON!

The end of the hall seemed a million miles away as Johnson, Sam Keats and Fors eagerly walked down it. They could already see the table where the pokeballs would be. There were three more trainers there already, choosing their pokemon. Or would the pokemon choose them?

One was a tall, lanky girl. Another was a boy with huge hair. The last was another girl, though she was short and cuddly looking.

"I hope she doesn't take Clefairy," Fors worried aloud. "Or Jigglypuff."

And then they were there.

"Ah, I was wondering when you three would show up!" Oak exclaimed. The Pokemon Professor had aged a lot in the past few years, and his ashy brown hair was almost all white. He was also seated in a swivel chair, though his lab coat and the red tie within it were impeccable as always. "I don't think you'll need an introduction to pokemon, do you?" he asked.

"Of course not!" they told him.

"All right, I'll spare you what the eight others have heard," the Pokemon Professor said, turning to face the table. "Just remember though," he cautioned. "For some people, pokemon are pets. Others use them for battling. But they are never toys or objects, so treat them with respect!

"Now," Oak said, pointing to the table where an array of pokeballs with translucent tops were laid out. "Fors and Sam, you two get to choose your pokemon. Johnson... come with me. Yours is over here."

Johnson followed the professor apprehensively to a different corner of the lab. His heart was beating fast, and he realised his palms were sweaty. He had been chosen, just like Juan. He wasn't sure if it was a good or bad thing. Looking back, he saw that Fors and Sam were already by the table, trying to jostle for a better view or reach with the other three.

"Johnson," Oak said, once they reached a darkened corner lit only by a spotlight. "You've been chosen because we think you'll bond well with a particular pokemon. This has nothing to do with whether we think you'll get to Indigo Plateau or not. That destiny is yours to make. Your companion and friend, however, has already been picked."

Moving his chair closer to the table, Oak picked up the last pokeball left. It was an ordinary red pokeball, and gave no hint to the pokemon within it. He held it out to Johnson, who received it with both hands.

Johnson rubbed it gently, turning it over in his sweating palms. "What is it?" he asked Oak.

"Let it go and see," the professor replied, smiling. They were separated from Fors and Sam by a screen. Bending down, Johnson placed the pokeball on the floor before them and depressed the catch before stepping back. It opened with a _tshckissss_ and a light shone brightly for a moment. When the light died down, Johnson had to take a deep breath to keep from whooping in delight.

"Thank you, professor! Thank you!" was all he could say, as the Charmander toddled to his side.

Back at the table, Fors paused with her hand over the Jigglypuff pokeball and turned to look at where Johnson had disappeared to.

"Told you there are no Clefairy," Sam said smugly.

"Shut up," Fors snapped. She turned back and narrowed her eyes at Sam. Then her hands closed on nothing and she shrieked.

"WHERE'S THE JIGGLYPUFF?"

"I got it," said the tall, lanky girl. She smiled slowly, raising the Jigglypuff's pokeball up. There was a hint of a taunt in her face.

"Jigglypuff are cute! They're for cute people!" Fors screeched. "Like me! NOT YOU!" She danced forward, trying to grab the Jigglypuff from the girl. She had yet to release it from its pokeball, and before that was done the Jigglypuff wasn't officially hers.

"Give it to me!" Fors said, jumping as high as she could. But the girl was tall and she held it far out of short Fors' reach. And as she raised the pokeball in the air, she also depressed the catch.

In a puff of smoke, Jigglypuff popped out of the pokeball, bouncing off Fors' head and landing safely on the ground.

"Jiggly!" it exclaimed happily, looking around and trying to discern who was it's trainer.

"I HATE YOU!" Fors yelled at the girl who stole her Jigglypuff, and scared her almost-pokemon instead.

"Jiggly!" the Jigglypuff cried, scurrying away from her. The tall girl went down on her knees immediately, gently beckoning to the balloon pokemon. It half ran half bounced towards her, and she hugged it once it came into reach.

"Losers weepers. Sorry you missed your Jigglypuff. You can always catch one," the girl said. "I'm Kat. What's your name?"

Fors frowned. But trainer's pride had taken over and dried her flash flood of tears. "I'm Fors," she said sullenly. Then, perking up, she grabbed a random pokeball off the table and threw it, releasing it as she did so. "And I'm gonna meet you at Indigo and whip your ass!"

Light and smoke filled their visions temporarily. When the air cleared, Kat said to Fors: "Good luck beating the Elite Four with splash," and left.

Fors stood there with her head slightly bent. Her outrage waited until Kat was out of the lab before unleashing itself.

"SAM!" she wailed. "I PICKED A MAGIKARP. WHY? OF ALL THINGS, WHY?" Johnson, who was returning from the corner with the professor, watched and listened as his friend continued berating herself while crying.

"Fors, Fors!" Sam tried unsuccessfully to stop her weeping. "It's okay, Magikarp evolve!"

"BUT I CAN'T FIGHT WITH ONLY _SPLASH_!" Fors screamed.

"...Say hi, Charmander," Johnson said, arriving by her side with his Charmander.

"FUCK!" Fors screeched, using a word that was far too adult for her kiddy self. The other two kids at the table, who had been watching her outburst with interest, winced at the curse.

"All right, that's enough!" Professor Oak put his foot down and clapped his hands twice. "Johnson, will you leave with her, please? Sam will join you when he's made his choice." Two aides appeared from the front of the lab to escort a frustrated Fors out. Each of them took hold of an arm. "Fors," Oak continued, more gently than before, "you should have made your decision more carefully. Magikarp will evolve into Gyarados, but not without lots of care and hard work. Let this be a lesson to you, to never make rash decisions."

"Professor, wait!" Sam interrupted. "I've made my choice, I'll go with them." He was holding a pokeball in his hand, and had a set look on his face.

"That's a good decision, Samuel Keats," Oak said sagely. "Your pokemon journey is about to start, Sam. Yours, and Fors', and Johnson's. Look after each other, and look after your pokemon. And work on your pokedex!" he added as an afterthought.

"Let's go," Johnson said. "Can you let Fors go?" he asked the aides. "We'll bring her out."

"I'll be okay," she sniffled, wiping her eyes with her hands. She walked steadily to where her Magikarp flopped on the floor and recalled it into its pokeball. Then she gave Oak her biggest, saddest frown, and said miserably: "I'll make it to the League anyway, professor!"

"That's the spirit!" Oak told her, patting her on her Psyduck beanie.

The three of them left Oak and the lab behind, and headed for the sunshine outside. As they exited Oak's lab they collected their Pokedex3s from the aide by the door. Fors' was fire-engine red; Johnson's was a matte black; Sam's was a muted blue.

"Our pokemon journey is about to unfold," Sam said, as they walked down the street to his house. "I never thought this day would come."

"It has, and I got a Magikarp," Fors said sullenly. She had stopped crying. "What did you get, Sam?"

A Sandshrew," Sam replied. He let his pokemon go, letting it sniff his hand before patting it awkwardly on its rough head. "I don't know what I'm going to call it."

"I dunno what I'm going to call mine, either," Johnson said, nudging his Charmander with his knee. The pokemon looked up at him with an expression that could only be interpreted as 'NIGGA, PLEAAAASE.'

"I guess you'll figure it out," Fors sighed. "I'm calling mine Geraldine. I think it's a male, but I'm calling it Geraldine anyway."

With that, they went to Sam's house.


	4. Chapter 4

OUR POKEMON JOURNEY: A Grandmaster's Heart

The trio reached Sam's house just in time to hear the tv blare: "...exclusive interview with Santa Keats!"

"Mum?" Sam called, opening the door. His mother turned from the tv set, annoyance clear on her face. But once she saw who had interrupted her, a smile immediately took over.

"Hello! Come on Sam, your brother's on tv!"

The three of them plopped down on the plush carpet before Sam's mother to watch the show. Magikarp, safely by Fors' belt, slept in its pokeball. Charmander sat on Johnson's lap. Sandshrew curled up next to Sam.

--

"Hi! It's Giann, reporting live from the Hoenn Region. Today the one and only Grandmaster Santa battled, and bested, Gym Leader Flannery! Flannery was upset, but conceded her defeat: I quote 'I should be myself, not someone else!'"

Giann is a pretty bimbo of a reporter with the leading news network across the world of pokemon: Panel 5 Television. A graduate from Hoenn University, her cute charm acts a lot like a pokemon's, and makes her an effective interviewer.

"Anyway, losers aside, the Grandmaster has kindly agreed to an exclusive interview with Panel 5!"

Flannery moped in the background as Giann tossed her ponytail back and tilted her head becomingly at Santa.

Santa is a dark, mysterious figure. He is tall and tan, and would be handsome if his face held even the tiniest hint of emotion. But a Grandmaster isn't ruled by his heart. Santa's face is determined, yet devoid of feeling. His eyes are slightly shaded by a battered Pokemon League cap he wears.

"So, Santa (tee hee). I hope you don't mind calling me that! I am, as you should've heard, Giann of Panel 5 Television and I've got a few questions for you!"

"Ask away," Santa told her, heart unmoved by Giann's cuteness. He looked straight at a pair of eyes that would melt any man, and looks stolidly on. His mouth was set in a straight line.

"How did it feel to beat Flannery?" Giann asked, batting her eyelashes.

"Like all the other times," Santa replied blandly. "Quick." He raised his eyes to the camera and dropped his gaze almost immediately.

"Wow!" Giann giggled, covering her mouth with her free hand. "You're a man of a few words, Santa! But what effect those words have!" her hand travelled from her mouth to her forehead. "I'm sure the ladies at home are feeling the heat! And speaking of the heat, what pokemon do you think fared best in your battles at Flannery's gym?"

"Blastoise."

"That's impressive!" Giann gasped, hand flying back to cover her mouth. "Not many people can handle a Blastoise with such expertise!" The camera cut to a clip of Santa sending Blastoise into a battle with one of Flannery's followers. The Blastoise hosed the Quilava down within seconds. Then the show returned to the interview with Santa.

By then, Santa had already released his Blastoise from its pokeball. It was a monstrous specimen, and its eyes held the same dead look as Santa's. Blastoise was a far cry from the lively, friendly Wartortle that used to frolic with the trio when Santa was home.

"What happened to Bubbles?" Fors asked in a shocked whisper. Santa had not been home for a while now; he was exploring the Hoenn region and gathering information on his Pokedex for the Prof. There were a lot of different kinds of pokemon there, as well as other professors studying them. But the point was that the trio had not seen Bubbles since it was a Wartortle, though Santa had always had that bored, blank look in his eyes.

"I don't know," Sam replied, equally shocked. They had had a lot of fun playing with Bubbles by the beach, and just as much fun taking turns to battle Tangela with it just outside the white picket borders of Pallet Town.

Johnson had an opinion, however: "Maybe he battled it too hard," he said, before they were shushed by Sam's mother. Santa was speaking again.

"Blastoise has been a good pokemon," Santa was saying, offering his first heartfelt opinion in the interview. "We've fought long and hard together and it's never let me down. Training gets tough sometimes but Blastoise never complains."

"He didn't even call Bubbles Bubbles," Sam said. He turned around to look at his mother. "Mum, what happened to Santa? What happened to Bubbles?" But his mother had nothing to say; she had not seen Santa for a long while either, and the grandmaster was not in the habit of calling home.

The interview with the flirty Giann and the stony Grandmaster would have bumbled along, had the sky not turned grey. A chill wind had picked up over in Hoenn, and leaves were being whipped through the air. It was fortunate Giann had on a tight skirt, or the entire world might have seen her knickers.

The camera panned to the sky.

--

"It's that pokemon we saw!" Sam gasped. The three of them had jumped to their feet, totally blocking the tv from Sam's mum's view. Sandshrew and Charmander were forgotten in the excitement of watching the strange pokemon.

"It is, it is!" Fors agreed excitedly. Johnson was just shocked – he watched in silence. Would they reveal what pokemon it was?

Giann's voice was still audible over the rising wind, but if his self-study of music production was worth anything, Johnson thought they would soon cut the mics.

"It's a pokemon!" Giann was saying urgently. "It has to be, but we've never seen anything like it before! It's so... human!"

"What is it?" They heard Santa demand. His voice was no longer flat, it sounded shaken. Sam could picture his brother's face now. It would be alive. It would be eager. His eyes would be full of fire.

"I don't know!" Giann said.

"I have to find out. It's so powerful. It changed the weather in a matter of seconds! Can you imagine..." The mic went dead, and after several more tense moments, wherein the pokemon shaped the clouds like it had earlier on, the camera was switched off.

"Wow," Fors breathed. "That was so epic!"

"I wish we knew what it was," Johnson said.

"I'm sure it'll be all over the news soon," Sam's mum soothed them. Sam was the only worried one.

"It's so powerful. What if it's too powerful for Santa?"


	5. Chapter 5

OUR POKEMON JOURNEY: The first night out

It had started to rain after Santa's interview. The trio had languished in Sam's room for a while, helping him to pack. Then, as the rain slowed to a fine drizzle, Fors hauled out her Psyduck umbrella and retied her shoelaces and charged down the stairs. Neither Johnson nor Sam hesitated; they followed her, and they bid Sam's mum goodbye as one, and then they were on the main road out of Pallet Town.

It was only by the long grass at the edge of Pallet that Sam remembered he had wanted to consult the Prof on the tv show. So they had backtracked into the heart of Pallet Town to discover that the Prof had gone home for the night. Not wanting to bug an old man, the trio then adjourned to Fors' place (which was just next door to the lab) for dinner.

Curry and rice and a hug each from Fors' mum saw them off into the night, warm, well fed, and wildly excited about their journey.

It had officially begun!

-

But life as a pokemon trainer was less glamourous than the stupid tv show with that stupid Ash and his stupid godly Pikachu made it out to be. The long grass was wet after the rain, and kept Fors' pinafore perpetually damp. They struggled through it, their path lit by the rainwashed moon and the silvery stars.

Johnson had recalled Charmander into its pokeball, though Sandshrew was slithering through the grass unbothered by the water. Its body was hardy, smooth and seashell-like to the touch. Fors like its furry snout, and had said as much. Sandshrew had tried to bite her at first, but had cowered after a disciplinary yell from Sam.

"Oh... this grass is _never_ going to end!" Fors wailed, sending a pokemon fluttering for the sanctuary of the taller hedgerow nearby. "I am so sick of my wet clothes!"

"You probably shouldn't have worn a dress," Johnson said matter-of-factly. He glanced down to check on his pokeball. Charmander was sitting quietly inside, and looked up as its owner looked down. Despite himself, Johnson smiled. The first tendrils of attachment to his pokemon were already warming his heart.

Suddenly, Fors shrieked and fell head over heels into the grass.

"Hey!" Sam cried, pushing through the brush to get to her. There was a depression in the earth, and in the depression was Fors, in a heap, and an Oddish!

"Oddish oddish!" The pokemon cried, its squinty eyes looking curiously at the trio.

"Catch it!" Fors whispered as she picked herself up and brushed the larger clods of mud off herself.

Wordlessly, Sam reached for Sandshrew. His pokemon obliging came up to him. "All right, Sandshrew. Your first battle! Go! Sand attack!"

Sandshrew padded forward hesitantly. Then with a brave squeak it scuffed the earth. A clod of mud hit the Oddish square in the face. Its squinty eyes narrowed further as it shook itself to get rid of the mud. The Oddish was angry!

"Magikarp, go!" Fors yelled, flinging her pokeball. It hit the Oddish, releasing Magikarp right on top of the wild pokemon.

"karp, karp," the Magikarp burbled, flopping wildly. It bounced up and down on the Oddish's soft leafy head. "Karp karp!"

"Wow!" Johnson exclaimed. He didn't want to bring Charmander out into the rain and so was spectating by the side. "Fors, your Magikarp is actually hurting the Oddish!"

"Wow, you're right!" Sam said, impressed. It was clear that the Oddish was tiring under the Magikarp's weight.

"Oh shit!" Fors suddenly cried. "NO POKEBALLS!"

"Never mind, it's not like you can run anyway!" Sam said, just as Magikarp flopped off Oddish and fell, bouncing uselessly, onto the soft ground.

"Sandshrew!" Sam Keats ordered, "Tackle!" Sandshrew leaped over Magikarp to hit Oddish in the face, sending the wild pokemon tumbling backwards!

"If only we had pokeballs," Fors sighed.

It was then that a raincoated figure appeared on the lip of the depression the trainers were in, and hurled a gleaming red-topped pokeball.

In a puff of light and a flash of smoke, the Oddish disappeared into the maw of the pokeball and it fell twitching to the ground.

"One," the stranger counted. "Two," he counted again, as the pokeball twitched. "Three!" he said triumphantly, as it twitched once more and ceased to move.

"Now," he said, walking forward to pick it up and peer curiously at the trio. "Who does this pokemon belong to?"

Fors looked down. Then, reddening as she spoke, she said: "It should be Keat's. I just sent Magikarp out and hijacked the battle..."

"Yeah Fors... you KSed him," Johnson helpfully added.

"Fors, you can have the Oddish if you want. You did help in the battle," Sam said kindly. He patted her shoulder. But Fors shook her head. "It's yours, Sam! Your first wild pokemon! I'll catch my own soon," she said, smiling.

"I see you three have no pokeballs," the stranger said. The trio looked at him. They had almost forgotten he was there, despite him holding the captured Oddish. He gave the pokeball to Sam, and pushed back the hood of his raincoat. He was an ordinary nondescript man, and introduced himself as "Hong! An assistant of the Viridian Pokemart!"

"I can take you kids there. There's an inn near the mart, and of course, you can buy pokeballs and other supplies like antidotes!"

"I don't know..." Johnson said. He felt the guy was a little too suspicious. Why would Pokemarts need to have sales personnel promoting them in between towns?

"We just opened," the salesman said helpfully, as if reading Johnson's mind. "Look," he said, reaching into the pocket of his raincoat. "Here are samples for all of you!" He took out three purple sprays – potions! And gave one to each of the three. As the trio pocketed their free samples, Fors doing so with glee evident on her face, the salesman started walking.

"It's not far to Viridian," he said. "Come on!"

In Viridian, Fors went mad over the Pokemart and the two boys decided to let her do the shopping. It was fortunate that Fors had the presence of mind to buy them all two antidotes, two paralyz heals and five pokeballs each, or they would have slept in the streets that night. Johnson got them a room at the inn while Sam found a late night okonomiyaki place and bought Tentacool tentacles and fish egg, ham and cheese, and as a treat, Wailmer okonomiyakis.

The trio fought over dinner and slept that night with their pokemon. Well, Sandshrew and Charmander cuddled up with Johnson and Sam, who had yet to name them. Fors filled the bath and put Magikarp inside, patting its head before retreating to bed. But while Fors and Johnson fell into deep sleeps almost immediately, Sam lay awake a little longer, holding Oddish up before him.

It was a noctural pokemon, Oddish was. He remembered Santa mentioning it before. But the Oddish was tired from its battle, and they had not visited a pokecentre since no one needed it much. So Oddish was sleeping, recuperating from the bouncing it had taken from Magikarp. Its little eyes were closed, and there was a bubble of water by its mouth that inflated and deflated as it breathed.

"I'll call you Oddy," Sam whispered to his new pokemon. He fell asleep with the pokeball on his chest.


	6. Chapter 6

OUR POKEMON JOURNEY: The first gym

"That there's the way to Indigo Plateau, and the Elite Four!" the old geezer said, motioning with his walking stick. It was pale, misty morning and the trio were up. Driven out of the inn by hunger and a lack of available room service, they had explored Viridian at dawn and were pleased to see the old man out, because who better to tell them about Viridian than a resident of the city?

"What about places to eat?" Fors asked eagerly. They would get to the Elite Four in due time; now the pressing issue was filling her tummy, and that of her companions'.

"Mabel's Okonomiyaki is the only restaurant in Viridian," the senior said, shutting his eyes and leaning back into his chair. "And it opens at lunch. Most of us take our meals at home; Viridian's been poor ever since the gym closed!"

"What?" Sam said incredulously. "How can a gym be closed?"

"It was run by a boy named Nazar. He looked about your age! Or maybe he was a little older – you youngster all look the same to an old man like me... he left about a year back, or maybe several years back. I can't remember. I forgot why, too."

"He's been gone a long time, actually," a new voice said. A tall boy emerged from the mist and long grass, pulling a Mankey by the hand.

"Hey, Spence!" Fors was the first to recognise him. "What's up, man?" Johnson asked. Spence slapped hands with the boys and waved to Fors.

"How did you know that?" Johnson asked him curiously. "About the gym leader, I mean."

"I did my research," Spence grinned. "I gotta get back to town, though. What are you guys doing here?"

"Looking for food, actually..." Sam admitted. "You?"

"I got up early to catch my Mankey," he said, patting the pokemon's head with his free hand. The Mankey's snout wrinkled in delight. "The pokemon before Victory Road are pretty weak, so you should be able to handle them. But make sure you don't go into Victory Road itself. You'll get owned." Spence grimaced. "I was lucky enough to escape, but Euly took a hard hit." He patted the pokeball by his waist.

"Catch you guys later," Spence said, walking back to the main town. The trio looked at the old man, who was carefully lifting up a thermos from the ground beside him.

"Thanks, grandpa," they said, and the old man nodded.

"Good luck on your journeys!" he said, raising a quivering hand. His other hand, left on its own to hold the thermos, wobbled. "I'll be here when you come for the Elite Four!"

They walked back to Viridian, noticing with interest a fat fellow sleeping behind a thick, thorny hedgerow. There was a spot along the brush where the growth was thin, but...

"We can probably get through if our pokemon had Cut," Sam said.

"You're so lucky to be Santa's younger brother," Fors told him appreciatively.

But Johnson disagreed: "That's basic knowledge, Fors. You're just being slow."

"Hey, no one knows everything! You're not so smart!" she protested. As Johnson quipped bitingly back, Sam lead the way so that by the time the argument had blown over and Fors and Johnson had called it a truce, they were standing before the Viridian Gym. It was a huge, imposing structure, possibly the largest gym in the region. Its outside looked brand new and well maintained, too. How could a gym this impressive be abandoned?

But it was – or so everyone said and believed. There was a laminated notice tacked to the door.

_BE BACK IN TWO DAYS_

But it was dated nearly fourteen years back... "That's older than we are!" Fors exclaimed. "But the gym looks so new!"

"Has anyone ever been inside?" Sam wondered, while Johnson's mind, influenced by his rap music, began wondering if there was anything inside to pilfer and plunder.

"Maybe we should go in," he suggested, checking on his Charmander through the pokeball. It was wide awake, and seemed to be smiling. Detaching it from his belt, Johnson released the Charmander. "Hi Sammy," he said, patting its head.

"I don't think it's a good idea," Sam said. "Even if it is abandoned, it's still Viridian property. I don't want to get into trouble with the police on our first day!"

Fors, on the other hand, was already by the door, trying to peek through the upper parts that were made of frosted glass. "I can't see anything," she commented. "It's all silver."

"The glass is frosted..." Sam said.

Johnson strode up to the door. "Come on, Fors! This is so conspicuous. Let's go round the back."

"It's only an adventure, Sam!" Fors said, stepping back and following Johnson the would-be-robber around the gym. Reluctantly, Sam followed...

"It's not the best idea in the world," he said, as he walked behind the two. Johnson was surveying the walls for any weak spots, tapping on potential areas occasionally.

-

Inside the gym, in the cold, chrome and steel interior of the sleek guard room, a Rocket looked up at the screens before him and chuckled. He punched a code into an array of silver buttons by his right elbow and sat back to continue with his coffee.

Further down the hallway from the guard room, in the refurbished centre of the gym, a boy in a black suit patted the Growlithe curled up in his lap and watched the huge plasma screen before him. The trio's faces could clearly be seen as they looked up at the eaves of the back of the gym.

"That looks like a bird's nest!" Fors was saying.

"They don't seem dangerous, boss," a Rocket minion said needlessly. He was standing to the left of the boy. On the boy's right was another chair, in which sat another boy dressed in a dark trenchcoat and an impressively cut brown suit.

"Keep an eye on them," the trenchcoated boy said. His eyes were shadowed by dark glasses, while his friend sat back so that no light illuminated his face.

"Of course, boss," another Rocket minion said. This Rocket stood to the right of Trenchcoat boy.

"We don't need anyone messing in our plans, like how Nazar got his screwed up by the grandmaster," Black Suit said. He leaned further back in his chair, further back in the shadows – only his arms and his Growlithe were in view now.

"No one's going to mock us on a silly tv show... No – and no one's going to laugh at Team Rocket again. Not when it's backed by the Mafiya..."

-

Outside, oblivious to the danger in the gym, Johnson gave up on trying to be a thieving rapper.

"Let's go," he said. "I think we have to get through Viridian Forest to get to Pewter City, and Pewter's bigger and more touristy. It'll probably have food."

"Is Viridian Forest very big?" Fors asked, as they walked along the wide dirt road.

"Not really, but it's quite dangerous because of all the Weedles in it. Most pokemon types are very weak against poison," Sam said. Fors put her hands in the pockets of her pinafore and began taking small skips. They made their uneventful way to Viridian Forest.


	7. Chapter 7

Our Pokemon Journey: The Viridian Forest!

This one's for Keat.

"Tiger, go!" Sam threw his Sandshrew's pokeball into the grass, where it bounced off a hidden rock and expelled the pokemon. As the pokeball rolled to the side, the fledging trainer commanded: "Sand attack!"

Tiger scampered over the Viridian forest floor, skidding to a halt before the Bug Catcher's Weedle. The unsuspecting insect had no clue – despite its size it was small – and bore the full brunt of Tiger's Sand Attack. And because bugs have no eyelids, it floundered, blinded.

Tiger watched the Weedle and waited for the next command. But though Tiger was still, it was obvious it was prepared to move. Sam could see its haunches tensed to pounce. "Tiger!" he called out, as the Bug Catcher worried and fretted across him, wringing grubby hands. "Tackle!" Tiger executed a flawless tackle, skipping over a larger patch of grass and tumbling shoulder-long into the Weedle. Hard skin and plenty of muscle collided with the soft bug. Tiger could feel the Weedle give way. It felt also a spurt of warm viscera across its back as the Weedle fell motionless to the ground, oozing white stuff from a tear between the segments of its body.

"Man, bugs are weak," Johnson said to Fors, as the Bug Catcher ran up in tears to his Weedle. He cradled it against his face, unmindful of the innards that were leaking onto his shirt. Sam was rubbing Tiger down with a handful of grass, and was praising it at the same time.

"You did great, Tiger," Sam said, tossing the dirty grass away and cleaning his hands off on his pants before scratching Tiger behind its vestigial ears. "You did so well! Good boy." Patting his Sandshrew on the head, Sam started back towards his comrades.

"Great battle, Sam!" Fors called out, as he neared where Johnson and her sat on a fallen log.

"Yeah man, that was cool," Johnson said. It was their third battle encounter in Viridian. The forest was chock full of amateur Bug Catchers spoiling for a fight.

Fors had fought the first, pitting her Magikarp against the even more useless Metapod. (She had decided not to call it Geraldine after all) Magikarp had bounced on Metapod until it was tired. Fortunately the Metapod had been utterly immobile, and the Bug Catcher and Fors called it a truce. Neither offered the other a compensation sum for the battle, though the Bug Catcher did give Fors an Antidote when Johnson stepped up behind her and cracked his knuckles.

Johnson had fought the second battle, Charmander burning its bug opponents to a crisp and scratching them when that wasn't enough. It was fun. The trio took turns to battle, and if a wild pokemon happened to be a higher level than their pokemon, then they fought it together. It was a good cooperative scheme.

Now the third, Sam's, had been won. They could continue looking for the exit from this natural maze, provided they didn't get stopped by yet another stupid Bug Catcher with shitty bug pokemon. "You wanna walk, Tiger?" Sam asked. The Sandshrew looked up at him with beady black eyes and rubbed itself against his calf. As Fors stood up and stretched, Johnson released Sammy. The Charmander toddled alongside Tiger, happily going "char, char!" The party looked happy, because they were! Fors kept Magikarp in its pokeball.

Behind the happy party, however, was a more sinister force. A boy decked out in black was hiding behind a thick growth of trees. The light that filtered through the canopy glinted off his silver spectacle frames. But his eyes were invisible behind their tinted lenses. A Pikachu browsed on the grass behind him, seemingly docile but in truth watchful of any danger that might come up on its ninja master. A small, neat F stitched into his shirtsleeve declared him a member of the Mafiya.

Yet the trio and their pokemon were oblivious to this small danger, were it a danger at all. The boy was spying on them, plain and simple. Chattering quietly to each other, they walked on through the maze that was Viridian Forest, each hoping there were no more stupid Bug Catchers around.

"I really hope there aren't any more of them, these guys are so annoying, and so noob!" Sam said, after a moment more of walking in silence.

"I agree, and I hope so too!" Fors said fervently. "But I can't fight them anyway. Johnson has to. Magikarp's bushed!"

"No sweat," Johnson said, adjusting the cowl of his hoodie. "Sammy can take it! Bugs are nothing to fire pokemon." Sammy looked up when it heard its name, and it gently swiped Johnson's calf with its tail. It was fortunate that Johnson was _always_ in jeans.

So they walked. Until they finally saw the end – glorious sunlight beating down on open ground perhaps a hundred metres before them.

It was kind of annoying, then, that a boy dressed like a ninja stepped out from the deeper shadows. He wasn't exactly dressed like a ninja. He had the clothes down pat, but he wore the stupid straw hat atypical of Bug Catchers on his head.

Johnson sighed. He stepped up – the spotlight was on him now. "Cosplay?" he sneered, facing the Bug Catcher. No one noticed the real Bug Catcher, trussed up like a evolving Caterpie, dangling from the taller tree above their heads.

The Bug Catcher said nothing. "My name's Celio," he said stiffly, bowing. He wore nothing inside his ninja shirt, and the skin of his chest was puckered with old scars. Three pokeballs were on his belt, and he detached the last. "I challenge you to a battle."

"Bring it on!" Johnson said cockily. "Come on, Sammy!" he called. Sammy came to his side, looking determined and less wobbly on its baby feet than usual. It snorted, and a tendril of smoke curled out of one nose slit.

"Go!" Celio cried suddenly, releasing his pokemon. Simultaneously, Johnson commanded his Charmander to go out. When the smoke and the light had cleared, Sammy found itself facing a...

Caterpie?! And a very strange one at that. It looked like it was freshly caught and pretty badly hurt, yet its eyes were bright and beady, and its horn was covered with a thick, sticky goo. Sammy looked quizzically at its opponent, unsure of what to make of it. It back in confusion to look for Johnson.

On the sidelines, Fors and Sam were stumped. "Wow, is he really going to battle with that? It looks kind of sick." Fors said. "Maybe he tries to exact a toll from travellers and doesn't have time to go heal," Sam guessed, correctly identifying the _real_ Bug Catcher's reason for being where he was before Celio dispatched him.

Johnson was confused, too. When did people not fight with proper pokemon? Caterpie was a pokemon... but it was obviously freshly caught. Didn't this guy have two others?

"Hey!" he called to the boy. "Don't you have...fresher pokemo-..." Johnson never finished his question, because despite its weakness Caterpie suddenly began scuttling towards the nearest tree.

"Sammy!" Johnson ordered. "Use Ember!" he decided to waste no time in dispatching the Caterpie and the Bug Catcher. Pewter City and breakfast awaited the trio!

But like the unconscious Bug Catcher above their heads, the large pokemon nest, made entirely out of regurgitated paper and attached to the branches of the tree the Caterpie was heading for, went unnoticed, too...

Fire spiralled out of Charmander's mouth, and the gout of flame chased after the Caterpie. It whickered over the empty soil by the base of the tree and flared against the trunk, as the Caterpie crawled up and to safety. Undaunted by the miss and heedless of Johnson's command to follow it up and use Scratch instead, Sammy used Ember again.

This time, the fire sprayed across the dry leaves of the tree. The small flame leapt from the leaves onto the tree itself, and onto the paper pokemon nest nestled in the crook of its main branches. The tree was strangely dry...

"Shit, we've started a forest fire!" Fors exclaimed.

"No, the other trees won't burn. It's only this that is so dry... and the other trees around it seem to be destroyed already," Sam observed. They were still watching Johnson, who had run forward to grab Sammy away from the smouldering tree. As the fire grew higher, Johnson back away, and a strange buzzing filled the air.

On the other side of the growing flames, Celio pulled a small detonator from his pocket and depressed it. There was a small, nearly inaudible and invisible explosion within the tree that Caterpie had climbed into. It only served to add fuel to the fire.

"Come on, Pikachu," Celio said to the air. He tossed the straw hat to the floor and pulled his face mask up. In a leap and a bound, the ninja boy disappeared into the forest.

By the time Johnson got back to his friends with Sammy in tow, the buzzing was loud enough that Fors had her hands over her ears. The pathway that led to the end of Viridian was choked with smoke, but the wind was fortunately carrying it out.

"If we let it clear a while we should be okay," Johnson said, looking around for somewhere to sit and lecture Sammy on its disobedience.

But Sam was looking at the burning tree still. It couldn't be what he suspected... Viridian Forest had too many visitors to have any good pokemon... or did it...?

His fears were confirmed as the first Beedrill swooped out from the smoke, its compound eyes cloudy but its sting sharp and dripping venom.


End file.
